


Being Saved

by kannachan27



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, OT3, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kannachan27/pseuds/kannachan27
Summary: Castiel was still getting used to this “being human” thing. Sure, he’d been around, watching humans do their thing since Creation, but he’d never really been involved with them. Not like this. Wincestiel.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 9





	Being Saved

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been backdated to the original publishing date and is being uploaded without changes 31 March 2020.
> 
> Prompt was: something supernatural - something fluffy, with sam, dean, and cas! possibly involving hugs??? i like hugs!!!

Castiel was still getting used to this “being human” thing. Sure, he’d been around, watching humans do their thing since Creation, but he’d never really been involved with them. Not like this. Before Sam and Dean, Castiel had never been intimately involved in a human’s life, nor had he really wanted to be, but now he found himself unable to un-involve himself. (Truth be told, Castiel no longer wanted to distance himself from the Winchesters, and would mourn their passing when it inevitably came.) He wasn’t used to being human, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to learn.

Dean, he had noticed, had changed a lot over the time that they had been involved with each other. Dean had become, in some ways, softer - he was more willing to touch people, get close to them, than Sam was, especially since Sam had returned from the Cage broken and soulless. Dean was more free with his touches than Sam, yes, but his touches were hot in a way that meant that you were likely to get burned.

Sam, though. If Sam would let himself be touched, the warmth would bubble up inside them both and spread through their bodies from the point of contact, until they each were pleasantly warm. Sam would hold back so he doesn’t hurt you, and that energy would be vibrating within him from the amount of restraint he shows.

Castiel thinks that he would like to see how Sam touches people. He has seen Sam touch Dean, seen the way the brothers wrap themselves around and in each other until it is difficult for even an angel to discern where one starts and the other ends, but that is always sharp and painful and desperate. No, he wants to see Sam touch somebody the way that he once touched Jess - soft and yielding, careful and worshiping. If he was being honest, he would admit to wanting Sam to touch him like that.

Castiel wonders what it would be like to be wrapped up in one of Sam’s hugs, and he wonders how to go about getting one since he had been rejected the last time, some part of Sam’s body remembering all too vividly the last time that he had allowed Castiel to touch him: the pain that comes from having an angel thrust his hand into the core of you, into your soul. (He thinks it might feel something like Love and Forgiveness.)

The boys are sleeping, now, while Castiel sits at the window of the motel room that they had rented for the night, pondering. He didn’t to sleep yet, and his mind would keep him awake anyway. He thinks that watching the sunrise would help calm him, and it is only minutes away, now. Soon, the brothers would be awake, and they would retreat into their own world that he was only sometimes invited into. He didn’t mind, really; some things are easier than breathing, and after living in each other’s pockets for thirty years, it was easiest to slip into a routine of us-against-the-world.

He hears the rustle of fabric and doesn’t think anything of it until there’s something tall and warm pressed against his back, warm breath on his neck, long hair tickling him. Sam. Sam wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, and burrowed his face into Castiel’s shoulder, and Castiel had never before felt so warm. Not even Heaven compared to the warmth that flooded through him while wrapped in Sam’s arms, and Castiel had never known that he had ever been so cold.

"Mornin’, Cas," Sam’s voice was thick with sleep, warm and slow like molasses. He had never heard Dean sound like that, had never before heard Sam sound like this either. He couldn’t think of anything to say, his eyes wide and unfocused, but Sam didn’t let him say anything. "Come ‘way from the window, Castiel. ‘s cold out there ‘n we still have a couple hours before we’ve gotta leave. Come an’ sleep."

Sam’s arms were wrapped around him, Sam’s body curled around him, and there was nothing that Castiel could do to escape, especially since he didn’t want to. He was warm, finally, and did not want to be cold ever again. He relaxed back into Sam’s body and rested his hands gently on top of Sam’s arms clasped around his belly. Sleep. Maybe he could sleep, now that he was warm and his mind was quiet. “Okay,” Castiel said.

Sam straightened up, gently tugging his arms from around Castiel’s waist. Cas felt the disappointment rising as the heavy warmth that was Sam disappeared, thinking _that’s all I deserve_ before Sam’s arm was back, this time around his shoulders, tugging Cas into him and pulling him along, back to the bed that he had so recently exited.

"C’mon, Cas," Sam said, pulling the covers back some more so they could both get in. "We got a long day tomorrow."

And when Cas climbs into bed with Sam, slightly unsure, Sam’s arms wrap around him and suddenly he’s surrounded by _Sam_ on all sides, and he’s never felt more loved in his life, and he falls asleep quick and easy.

In the morning, Castiel wakes up to the sound of the door closing and the smell of coffee. He sits up in the bed, his hair rumpled and his eyes adjusting to awakeness, and he’s slightly confused until the bed dips next to him and he’s pulled sideways into a one-armed hug and a warm cup of coffee pressed into his hands.

"Mornin’, Castiel," Sam says, tightening the arm that was wrapped around his shoulders.

Dean reaches up with the hand that’s not holding the coffee steady and ruffles Cas’s hair, laughing. “He’s still not awake, is he? Drink up, buddy. You’re gonna need it.”

Castiel takes a sip of the coffee - hot and bitter and he’s not sure if he likes it, but he doesn’t _dis_ like it - and blinks heavily, mumbling “Good morning,” to the boys that have given him a place in their strange relationship. Maybe soon it would be natural to them, and he’d be able to revel in the touches that felt like being saved.


End file.
